


Paperwork

by Anne_Fairchild



Category: Vienna Blood (TV)
Genre: M/M, Romantic Gestures, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29453631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Fairchild/pseuds/Anne_Fairchild
Summary: It's Valentine's Day. Oskar experiences for the first time what that means to Max.
Relationships: Max Liebermann & Oskar Rheinhardt, Max Liebermann/Oskar Rheinhardt
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Paperwork

**Author's Note:**

> Pure fluff, because it's Valentine's Day and I felt like it. I'm missing my boys!

It began like many other mornings in their still relatively new life together, with Oskar off to work at the police station and Max still abed and seeing patients later. Oskar pressed a kiss to his brow and Max reciprocated, his kiss sleepy and tender.

Oskar walked to work through a sea of red, courtesy of the city's flower sellers. He was so intent on his work already that it barely registered with him as somewhat out of the ordinary. He was not looking forward to this day. He needed to spend the entire day at his desk with paperwork, something he loathed as much as most policemen did. Also like most, he'd been putting it off until he knew he couldn't any longer or it would be commented upon. Today would be long and boring, punctuated only by cups of the station's abominable coffee and if he was lucky, a stale pastry.

As he unlocked his office, through the glass he noticed something on his desk that hadn't been there when he'd left with Max the previous night. He sat down to observe two perfect red tulips still kissed with morning dew, along with a small red bohemian glass heart and a note which said 'Good morning, Valentine.'

Oskar smiled to himself. Sweet, thoughtful, romantic Max. The items cheered him considerably. He of course had forgotten the day, or had simply blotted it from his memory since he'd never before had someone he could celebrate as a sweetheart. Such sentimentality had not been something Else wanted, and while he'd loved to do things for Mitzi it wasn't the same as for a lover.

He sighed regretfully and settled in to work. But as the hours passed, he was cheered and refreshed by the sight of the flowers, which he placed in a glass, the heart which now lived in his trouser pocket where he could touch it any time he liked, and the note which sat in his breast pocket next to his heart.

At half past ten there was a tap on the glass and Oskar looked up to see a delivery boy with a large paper sack. When he was gone and Oskar was fairly certain no one had noticed or was watching, he opened the sack. He found a large cup of good, hot Viennese coffee, a fresh apple pastry, and another note. This one read "To provide energy, sustenance and concentration throughout your day and into the evening." Max's allusion to that evening made him grin widely and he made no attempt to hide it. The afternoon would at once pass more happily and yet more slowly now. He felt genuine distress, however, at the realization that he had done nothing for Max and had no way to get him anything now, it was too late and he was stuck for hours yet. He couldn't use the telephone and arrange something without everyone in the room knowing.

Clerks came and went from his office, and the pile of paperwork shrank slowly but surely. Von Bulow came to the door to pointedly detail evening plans with his wife in a small gesture of deliberate cruelty. Small man, small cruelties, Oskar reflected, rubbing the glass in his pocket. If the _arschloch_ only knew; which he mustn't, of course.

The office had nearly emptied, with everyone out on police business or at lunch, when another delivery boy arrived. Lunch was a simple but well done ham sandwich and a beer. The note said "Has VonB arrived to torture you yet? I love you. Soon." It made him laugh out loud, and wish that he could leave right then.

He didn't notice that the shadows outside the window had lengthened considerably until he paused for a moment to stretch his limbs. In another hour or so the street lamps would be lit against the still-early darkness. Gazing out into the main room, he saw that he was the only one left. He felt a pang of sadness, of loneliness. The phone rang. He rose and opened the door to answer it, hoping.

"Hello. Police offices, Leopoldstadt."

"You've done your civic duty for today. Time to come home, _valentin."_

"I was just thinking of stopping soon. Max - "

"Stop thinking. Come home now, _liebe."_

The voice he loved, warm and seductive, wanting him so much more than the spouses of his proudly Habsburg superiors would ever want them.

"I'll leave very soon," he promised. " _Ich liebe dich, Max,"_ he whispered down the phone line.

" _Ich liebe dich auch._ "

"As soon as I straighten my desk," he promised.

" _Schnell,_ " Max breathed, and there was a soft click.

Oskar hung up the phone and returned to his office, grabbing the loose papers from his desk and shoving them back into the proper folders. He closed his door and locked it, then walked down the hall to Von Bulow's office, long dark since his early departure. He put all of his completed paperwork and files through the slot in the door, knowing it would be the first, annoyingly untidy sight Von Bulow would see in the morning. Satisfied, he left the building.

The flowers on the street were no longer as fresh as his had been that morning but he bought some anyway, red roses. There weren't enough flowers or chocolates in the world to truly express his feelings for Max. He felt as if his feet might not be touching the ground as he got closer to home. When he saw at last the lights on in the house, warm and welcoming, knowing Max was just on the other side of the door, happiness welled up in him. Life was very good indeed.

Opening the door, he heard Max in the kitchen and saw that the table was laid for dinner. He was hungry for the meal of course, but just now he was hungrier for Max, who emerged from whatever preparations he'd been making.

"I'm glad you're home, Valentine _,_ " Max smiled, taking the roses from Oskar, inhaling deeply before laying them on the hall table. "They're beautiful. Thank you." Oskar's hat was tossed towards the sofa.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't remember, and then I couldn't- All that you have done, _mein_ Max, and I haven't done anything for you. It meant so much to me." Oskar fumbled in expressing his feelings, as was often the case. "It was very thoughtful, and I loved it all. You made my day bearable."

Max was slightly disheveled, his hair no longer neatened down, clad only in open-necked shirt and trousers, his braces down and without his shoes, and Oskar wanted to grab onto him and never let go. Max moved first however, and pulled Oskar into his arms, hugging him tightly for a long moment before taking his face in his hands and kissing deeply, pressing himself against Oskar. They reveled in the closeness and the touch for several minutes before Max pulled back slightly.

"Never be sorry for who you are, _liebste,_ " he breathed, a bit short of breath. "I don't expect such things from you. You're the pragmatist, I'm the romantic. I like being the romantic for you. It makes me happy. Don't ever worry about it," he reassured.

"I still wish that I had a true valentine for you," Oskar sighed, "something special."

"You don't understand, do you?" Max smiled tenderly. " _You_ are all the valentine I want or need. Only you, Oskar, here with me now. I'll have my valentine when you take me into the bedroom and make love to me. Then I'll put your flowers in water, we'll have a special dinner, some brandy in front of the fire, and then more valentines, wherever they happen. Being with you, touching and holding you, making love - what could be more romantic than that?" he asked.

"When you put it like that-"

"I do."

"Well then, my beautiful Max, let us go and make valentines, hm?" Oskar grinned. "I promise you, I'll make you one you won't forget." He aimed Max towards the hallway.

"More than one," Max protested.

"Christ, I'm an old man, Max."

"Not _that_ old."

"Well, I'll give it my best shot."

"Looking forward to that."

The bedroom door clicked softly shut.


End file.
